


Beyond This Illusion

by Rabid1st



Series: Supernatural AU Endings [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:56:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27625058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabid1st/pseuds/Rabid1st
Summary: This is a sort of AU continuation off my last little happy ending Destiel ficlet "When You're Done." That fic was written with the false assumption that 15x19 was the series finale for Supernatural. I just wanted to write some more off that happy ending. So, I placed some thoughts in the comments for THAT fic, because Dean and Cas kept nagging at me. Is it a second chapter? I don't feel like it can be, because come tomorrow, the show will end for real and all of this will become moot. But if, "When You're Done" left you wanting more sexy schmoop with Dean and Cas...here you go. This one is for a slightly more mature audience. There is nothing graphic in it, but sex happens.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: Supernatural AU Endings [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019782
Kudos: 11





	Beyond This Illusion

BEYOND THIS ILLUSION  
Rabid1st  
Supernatural  
Dean/Castiel  
Rating: PG-13 for some frank sexual discussions  
Summary: A Coda to the Coda I wrote for the Destiel fans that is entitled “When You're Done.” I like the way that ended. This is not really a sequel or an official part of THAT story, which came to me like a flash and demanded I write it. That was a labor of love for Destiel fans, even though I am not one. I just wanted to end the series on a happier note. This is just some crack!fic, because my brain went into sappy Destiel overdrive and I wanted to write about what happened next. I blame the cute Destiel videos I watched to prep for writing their reunion.  
Disclaimer: Seriously, I didn't mean to even write this...so I don't think there will be any further updates. But...once characters start yapping in my head, they keep on pestering me. “Then, what happened...? What about Sam? They are going to do what now?” All these characters are the property of WB and CW and the Supernatural writers, I don't know why they are talking to me. 

_Once I rose above the noise and confusion, just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion..._

“Get a room!”  
The old man's rude bellow, caused Dean to break away from Cas for a much needed gulp of air. They'd stumbled into the outer wall of a department store, Dean's hands tangled in coat fabric and angel hair. The elderly couple Dean had seen earlier stood glaring at him from a few yards away.  
“Great idea,” he shouted back.  
He saluted the grumpy dude, with two fingers to the brow and gave the scowling woman a saucy wink, just to mess with her, before yanking Cas off the wall by a lapel. “Come on, Cas.  
"Where are we--?  
"Car. Backseat.”  
“I would rather ride up front.”  
“Cas, if you keep talking, we are going to be arrested for public indecency.”  
“That would be inconvenient.”  
“Yes. Yes, it would.”

A long time later, Dean lay sprawled on the spare blanket from the Impala's trunk. There was a rock, or maybe a tree root, under his left buttock, but he was too spent to move. He watched Cas collect their clothing, noticing that they both still wore socks. A tiny smile tugged on Dean's lips, despite his best efforts not to get all sappy.  
When he finally stopped hearing the bang-bang of his own heartbeat, he said, "Well, that was...very relaxing."  
"I can sense you are no longer as concerned about personal space."  
Dean cocked an eyebrow at Cas, who flashed him a toothy, totally sappy smile. There was still a touch of shyness in it, which amazed Dean considering how completely in charge Cas had been twenty minutes earlier.  
"I think you found my off switch...eventually. All security systems have powered down. Sleep. Food. Then what? You wanna look for a motel room?"  
"I have a house."  
Surprised, Dean levered up onto an elbow and immediately regretted the sudden move.  
"Need blood to the head,” he groaned, letting his torso slump forward. “So dizzy.”  
At Dean's side in a moment, Cas shifted his armful of clothes so he could rest a hand on Dean's shoulder. No magic healing happened, but Dean did feel better. Still it was a struggle to focus on the apparently spinning blanket. Trying not to barf, he said, “You have a house?"  
"Yes. Lurking on street corners is uncomfortable. And discouraged by law enforcement."  
"I meant, if you have a house, why are we in a field?"  
"Because you drove us to a field," Cas said, leaning over to peer at Dean, as if concerned he might not remember. "You dragged me to the Impala and said, 'Get in the car. Not the back seat.' Then, you drove us to the edge of town and turned quite sharply into this field. You stopped the car, popped the trunk and said, 'You get the blanket and I'll find the F-ing lube.' Which I just realized is probably not a descriptive adjective, but an expletive."  
"Talking, again!" Dean said, squinting up at the sloshing world. He tugged at Cas' arm, to topple him forward. "Come here.”  
Cas let his trench coat and other assorted bits of clothing cascade across Dean's torso. Dean was fairly sure Cas could have evaded a tumble with ease, but he didn't resist the pull. They rolled across the blanket. Kissed some more. Eventually Dean couldn't manage anything but promises. After a disgustingly tender period of gazing into Cas' eyes, Dean remembered how much he hated Hallmark movies. He cleared his throat, dismayed at himself, and broke free of the embrace. Struggling first to all fours and then to his feet, he snatched up a t-shirt and his underwear.  
“I'm just saying at some point, you could have suggested we go to your place."  
"Well, I'm sorry, Dean," Cas said, sitting up. "There was a lot to process, with the groping and kissing and naked flesh pressed against me. You said not to talk. And there were lots of other things I wanted to say. Also, I like this field."  
Pausing in his sex-drunk attempt to dress, Dean looked around him with a burgeoning appreciation. They were on the edge of a hay field. He'd steered the Impala onto a gravel drive that offered access to a distant barn. The ripening grass was long and fragrant. It made a sweet cushion for their blanket, except for that one rock or root. A tall hedge sheltered them from the road. A few trees gave them a leafy roof overhead. Butterflies danced through wildflowers. There was a pleasant drone of working bees. Dean tilted his head in consideration, and then gave Cas the point.  
“There are worse places for your first time.”  
“It was not my first time, Dean.”  
“I could tell,” Dean said, clicking his tongue before he clarified. “I meant our first time. If we'd done this before, I hope I'd remember.”  
“Oh, yes. It was our first,” Cas said, standing to begin dressing. “As far as I remember, also." Pausing, in his attempt to button his mostly button-less shirt, he said, "I apologize, if I was excessively domineering.”  
“Don't ever apologize for being you, Cas.”  
“I know you probably like...other things...sometimes.”  
“I admit, I didn't expect you to be such a take-charge guy in the hay.” Dean said, smiling at his own pun. “But I kinda liked it. Whoever said it was better to give than receive, probably hasn't banged an angel.” He held up his right boot. “Have you seen my other shoe?”  
“It's in the backseat.”  
Dean spotted his jeans near the front passenger tire. He hobbled to them, then on to fetch his other boot.  
“On the other hand, I might need some actual sexual healing.”  
“I'm still recharging,” Cas said. In response to Dean's cocky smirk, he added, “From my time in the Empty.”  
Dean leaned into the Impala for stability as he fastened his pants, then he opened the car door and sat down on the seat edge, sock-clad feet still out on the ground.  
“How long have you had a house?"  
"Two months and four days. It took a long time to find my way out of the Empty, even though I had Chuck's keys."  
"I thought Chuck brought you out."  
"No. I saved myself."  
"But, he gave you the keys?"  
"I borrowed them. Stole them, when he freed Lucifer. Then, I had to find the right doorway. I listened for you, until I was sure this was our universe. I was disoriented, coming back here, being flesh again. I think that was Jack, giving me this body for my own. By the way, I found God. God is everywhere.”  
“Yeah. Jack told us.”  
“No. I mean. Jack is everywhere here, but there is an Awareness that is everywhere, too. The real God was never a person or a thing.”  
“Hmmm,” Dean said. “Like Jack said, he's in every drop of rain, every grain of sand. In us, too, like everyone is family.”  
“Connected, yes! Love thy brother as thyself.”  
“That's catchy! You should write that down.”  
“I looked for you and Sam, but without the angel radio, I couldn't find the exact place. You seemed to be moving erratically.”  
“I was on a boat. Sam's probably on Linked-In or something.”  
“You know I don't trust computers. I prayed and was drawn here."  
"To just wait?"  
"And raise chickens."  
Dean wrinkled his nose. "Why chickens?"  
"For the eggs. The chickens come first. I sell eggs for money. We don't have to live in the house."  
"No. You have a house. I'm okay with the house. I'm just not a fan of birds. Couldn't we raise cows or goats?"  
"Maybe sheep. I don't want to kill innocent creatures."  
"We don't have to kill them, we could just have a dairy farm."  
"Dairy farms kill the babies and steal their milk, Dean. It's very sad."  
"Great, Cas, now you've ruined cheese. And milkshakes. Are you happy?'  
“I am very happy. But not about the milkshakes. We could plant soy beans.”  
“Are you saying we don't have to kill lambs if we raise sheep? Isn't that how we get lamb stew?"  
"We can let the lambs frolic and grow up for more wool. Or we can raise alpacas."  
Dean squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose for a second. The domestic details were making his brain hurt, even more than the angel-sex. He let his hand drop into his lap, opened his eyes and smiled across at Cas. Again with the sappy. "Okay, Old McDonald! Whatever rocks your world. All I need is a bed and a place to work on the Impala."  
"Or...we could go back to hunting things..."  
"If you're about to suggest we start antiquing, I'm leaving."  
It was Cas' turn to give Dean a "don't be a dumb-ass" look. "No, Dean. I'm saying there is a way out of this particular universe. I still have the keys."  
Dean tried to ignore the slight flutter in his chest as he struggled to process what he really wanted. A way out of endless introspection? A chance to be really useful? A thousand afternoons like this with Cas. To just be, live without the guilt or denial or Chuck controlling them all like they were characters in his twisted fanfiction.  
"You mean, go to some sort of apocalypse world?' He asked. "Been there; done that. Did not want the t-shirt." Closing his eyes to the idea, Dean shook his head, before leaning it against the car door edge. “I don't want to do this all again. I'm too old for that Cas.”  
"It would be something else. Something new. The multiverse. The Empty empties into a lot of universes, Dean. Some of them have problems that make ours look insignificant. People need saving."  
Opening his eyes, Dean raised a brow at that idea. “If God is everywhere, those people don't need us to save them. Jack said they can save themselves.”  
“Chuck isn't the only creator with delusions, Dean. I think they pull in too much energy and take over as avatar deities, a personification of how we see God. People reflect themselves into what they choose to worship. There's one universe where some reality TV star took charge. And the Leviathans are out there, with a truly scary, scaly Almighty.”  
"No. Nope. No way. Sam would never go for it."  
"We don't have to take Sam."  
"He's on his way, right now. We have real world problems. We have to tell him I'm gay."  
"You're not gay, Dean. You're clearly strongly attracted to women. And a few men."  
"What about...this?" Dean waved his finger back forth to indicate there was something between them.  
"This is a soul bond, with sexual benefits. It transcends the physical. I'm fairly certain you felt that just now."  
Acknowledging the point, Dean gave a lopsided smile and blushed.  
“I'm still feeling it,” he said. He gave a put-upon groan and scrubbed his fingers through his hair, before saying, "You are not playing fair here, Cas. No means no! No more monsters. No more suffering. No guilt. No lies. You are alive. We are in love. We need to tell Sam."  
"We can be back before Sam gets here,” Cas said, then scrupulously added, “If we don't die."  
"What?"  
"Time is a linear constant within a particular universe. We can come straight back here, to this exact moment."  
"Why does that sound like something out of Doctor Who or Buffy? Are we going to a world without shrimp?"  
"I have never understood your considerable concerns over shellfish, but if you have a craving, we can have shrimp when we come home."  
"It's...never mind." Dean pointed a finger at him. "So what you are saying is we can go to other universes and hunt monsters and save people. Kick the ass of some asshat personification of God and come back here afterward?"  
"If we don't die. There are people who need your particular talents. Hope for the hopeless. We could live here, in a world with Sam...and shrimp. And commute to work in the multiverse, when we get bored with raising alpacas."  
"Yeah. No, I can't leave Sam in a happy world where nobody knows him. Not if there's a chance we could die. We need to wait and see if he wants to go with us."  
"Okay, but, this is my plan. I get to ride shotgun."  
“Everything you say now sounds sexy.”

They went for burgers and Dean called Sam to give him directions to the diner.  
“Eighteen messages,” Dean said, hitting the callback button, without listening to any of them.  
“Dean! Thank God!” Sam said via the speaker. “What happened? Did you turn off your phone? Did Lucifer try something?”  
“I dropped the phone, Sam, in the heat of...the moment. Moments. Many moments were heated.”  
“Are you okay?”  
“Fine. Yeah. I'm good. Great. Look, Sam, I found Cas.”  
"Hello, Sam!"  
The sound of squealing breaks, shattering glass and cursing came through the speaker and then the phone went dead.  
“We probably should have waited until he arrived safely,” Cas said.  
Dean tried calling back but Sam's line stayed busy. Then the phone rang again. The screen said Irene Cooper.  
“What happened?” Dean demanded in a gruff bark. He pushed the speaker button so Cas would stop leaning into his shoulder.  
“Dean? It's Irene. Sam can't talk right now. But, he wanted me to find out exactly where you are.”  
“Hi, Irene," Cas chimed, before Dean could reply. "We are in Selah, Washington at Maxine's Diner. Eating cows, but not having milkshakes."  
"Who are you?"  
"Castiel. I'm Dean's better half," Cas said, just as Dean spoke again.  
"Are you both okay?” Dean asked.  
“Uh-yeah...I think so.”  
Dean squeezed his eyes closed, chin falling forward. He exhaled audibly in relief. His shoulders shook with a silent chuckle, as Irene went on to explain the accident. “We're a little shaken up. Sam dropped the phone and drove off the road, but its just a flat tire and a broken side mirror. I didn't know you were involved or...married?”  
“Son of a bitch,” Still, quaking with laughter, Dean snatched up the phone, thumbing off the speaker as he mouthed “What?” at Cas, before directing his next remarks into the phone. “Long story. Fill you in when you get here. Selah, Washington. Maxine's Diner on Fifteenth Street. See you soon.”  
He hit the disconnect icon and wrinkled his brow at Cas. "Better half? Really?"  
“I didn't want to say 'lover' or 'soulmate' Better half is a recognized euphemism and a completely accurate description. I'm definitely your better angel.”  
“You're the best angel,” Dean agreed. “But maybe we should discuss what we tell other people, before just blurting it out. Right after I make a pit stop.”  
“Best angel is not a compliment,” Cas called after Dean, who was heading for the jukebox. “It's like best headache.”

“So, these other universes are not the same as parallel dimensions,” Irene said, pointing a fry at Cas.  
They'd gotten through the hugging and the catching up and were clearly confusing Sam's girlfriend, but not as much as Dean thought they would.  
“I told you,” Sam reminded him, “Irene has a Master's in Quantum Mechanics.” He shot a glance at Cas and added, "You look different."  
"It a new shirt," Cas told him.  
“It's the angel part that's not adding up for me,” Irene said. “Also, are you the friend of Dean's that Sam told me died? The one Dean was mourning in the Antarctic?”  
"Mourning in the Antarctic?" Dean repeated, like he couldn't believe what he'd just heard.  
“I couldn't technically die,” Cas corrected her, “because Death was taken by the Empty before me and I'm an angel.”  
“My dad would say there are no gay angels.”  
“Not everyone is comfortable with the full spectrum of sexuality. Your father might be repressing some concerns about his own masculinity, overcompensating with passive aggression. Or perhaps he's fallen under the influence one of the Evangelical movements that seek to control large groups of people with hypnotic resonance via mindless chanting.”  
“Cas,” Dean warned, giving an almost invisible shake of his head. He turned to Irene with a half-apologetic grimace. “He over explains. Most angels are junkless. No sexuality or identity or gender. They just take on the human suit to communicate with us.” He shot a glance at Sam. “I notice you're not saying anything about my coming out.”  
“What's to say?” Sam asked. Dean continued holding expectant eye contact, until Sam scoffed at him. “Oh, come on, Dean. You think I never noticed?”  
“Noticed what?”  
“The bi-curious benders you'd go on every time you lost your inhibitions or your soul or drank some demon-seed potion. The man crushes? Benny? Dr. Sexy? Like Cas just said, the overcompensating. Though there's nothing passive about your aggression.”  
“What's that supposed to mean?”  
“It means, we shared hundreds of tiny motel rooms across a span of way too many years and you talk in your sleep. But I didn't need the inside dream line to know you were crushing on a certain angel. Everyone knew." Sam ticked a few of the knowing off on his fingers. "Hell knew. Death knew. God knew. Bobby knew. Mom knew.”  
“No, she didn't.”  
“I've known you were bi since you fell in love with Joey Mendelssohn in the sixth grade.”  
“Joey Mendelssohn?” Cas said, cocking his head.  
“Varsity soccer player,” Sam said.  
“I took a brief, intense interest in the game.”  
“Seriously? It was soccer, Dean, in Oklahoma.”  
“We had a winning team until that slutty cheerleader ruined Joey's...” Dean reined in his indignation, and continued in an intensely reasonable tone. “Okay...we are not here to dredge up the past. We are here to discuss this plan to...”  
“Carry on,” Cas finished for him. “Fighting the forces of darkness.”  
Sam and Dean looked at one another and then turned in unison to stare open-mouthed at Castiel.  
“Dramatic much,” Sam said.  
“Well, I'm in,” Irene told them. “Just watching you guys interact has been the most fun I've had, since, I don't know? Comic-Con? And I would kill for a look inside this Empty place.”  
“It's dangerous, Irene.”  
“And you are not invited,” Cas added.  
“What Cas means,” Dean said, giving his better half a “what the hell” frown, “is that he and I are going. Just us. And only for a few seconds. We wanted to let you know, Sammie! That's it. End of discussion.”  
“Because you think that's going to fly? You think I'm going to sit here and wait, maybe forever? You two are my only family. You're all I have left. And I know sometimes I'm in the way for your honeymoon episodes, but...”  
“We don't have 'honeymoon episodes.'”  
“Yeah, you do. When Cas came back from Purgatory, for example.”  
“Purgatory?” Irene asked, but nobody was listening to her.  
“Sam, you have a life. You have a job. Irene's a nice girl.” Dean wafted a hand at her and offered a sweet, if fleeting, smile. “We will be back before you even know we're gone. This isn't a permanent thing.” As he said the last, he cut a sharp warning look at Cas, a fraction of a second too late.  
“If we don't die.”  
Bracing both elbows on the table, Dean dropped his head into his hands. “Save yourself, Irene,” he said, without looking up. “You don't want to live like this. Believe me.”  
“He's kidding,” Cas said, draping an arm around Dean's shoulders. "We Winchesters are a very close-knit family."  
A jolt of comprehension straightened Sam in his chair. Quick as the thought, his hand slid across the table to seize Dean's wrist.  
There was a jangling sound, like keys falling to the floor.  
Irene blinked.  
And all three men were gone.


End file.
